A Hunter's Tale
by Aesop
Summary: Gargoyles 7.  Hunter has always kept secrets, he says, for the good of everyone around him.  The clan is about to learn how true that is.


A HUNTER'S TALE

Here is number seven in my little saga. As always, I gain nothing by writing this and I own nothing. I'm using the characters from "Gargoyles" without permission. They belong to Buena Vista. Hunter and a few others are mine. This story starts immediately after the end of "Complications." There are references to characters and occasionally events, from the Gargoyle Saga a fiction series written by multiple authors that I highly recommend.

THE LABYRINTH 8:00 p.m.

"We are here Hunter." Goliath entered the small room to find Hunter staring at a blank computer screen. "What are you doing?"

"Remembering."

"Painful memories?"

"Some. Others are just frightening."

"I want to know everything. So do the others."

"I'll tell you. You may wish I hadn't though." He rose from the chair and turned toward the door. "I might as well get on with it. I came in here to work, but all I've done for the last hour is remember things I don't want to."

Goliath's mind flashed back to that terrible night when he had found his clan murdered. He understood how memories could consume a person. They moved into the main room where the rest were waiting. The gathering had been kept small. Matt Bluestone was there. Goliath, Elisa, and Hudson from the Manhattan clan, Talon and Maggie from the Labyrinth, and all of Hunter's clan were present. Even Robin and Eve were there.

Hunter looked around at the expectant faces. "Let's begin then."

TWO YEARS AGO, GERMANY

Dr. Gunter Meyers was in paradise. He couldn't help the broad smile that spread across his face as the pieces of the puzzle came together. He looked out at the orderly grid lines laid out over the archeological site and the artifacts and other evidence that had already been found laid out in neat rows, all labeled and catalogued. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine the events as they must have happened, but he couldn't. There were still too many questions unanswered, too many puzzle pieces that didn't yet fit, but it was getting closer. He could feel it. His smile changed to a frown of concentration as he tried to visualize the battle that must have occurred in the field before him more than 500 years ago.

"You look pensive doctor." Meyers started at having his concentration broken. He looked around to see a tall dark-haired man with green eyes. He was dressed in casual work clothes with a pack across his shoulders. Meyers repressed an expression of distaste. 

There was nothing about the man that would draw attention to him in a crowd. With his dark tanned features he could have been one of the workers on the dig, or a farmer from farther down the valley. Meyers knew different. _The Society's chief thug_, he thought uncharitably. If he were honest with himself he would admit that he disliked the Illuminati and anyone involved with them on principle. 

He knew that the Society was less than comfortable with his involvement in the project. They had been left with little choice though. Meyers was the top archeologist in his field, and they needed certain questions answered. Questions that wouldn't normally have been asked by an archeologist. A certain measure of trust had been necessary. Meyers' refusal to join the Society had only made them more suspicious.

For his own part, Meyers had no interest in the Society's secrets. He cared only for his work. For the chance to solve such an intriguing puzzle, he was willing to put up with the Society's interference and restrictions, to a point.

"I'm thinking," he answered tersely. Hunter smiled apologetically. He knew Meyers didn't like him. The archeologist glared at Hunter, clearly annoyed at him. "I have work to do and nothing new to report. The Society will just have to wait for results. Archeology takes time."

"Calm yourself doctor. I'm not here for a progress report. I brought the lab results you've been waiting for." He shrugged out of his backpack, took out a large sealed envelope, and handed it over.

Meyers looked at the seal and then back at Hunter. "Why don't you save me the trouble and just tell me what it says?" If the Illuminati agent was offended he didn't show it.

"All right. The human remains and the artifacts date from the same period, about 500 years ago. It's the human remains that were most interesting. The bones were charred as you know, but the interesting part is that they were killed by what appears to have been a directed energy weapon."

"Directed energy? Like a laser? Even flame throwers were far beyond the technology of the time."

"I know. An intriguing puzzle isn't it? Some of the weapons were apparently melted in the same way."

"I'll need to review the results myself. However," he admitted grudgingly, "it should be an intriguing mystery." He turned toward the trailer he used as an office and home while on the dig. He tore open the envelope and was engrossed in the test results before he entered the trailer.

Hunter watched him go and then turned to the field where the dig was in progress. The search grid covered the entire field and now was carefully marked off into sections that had been thoroughly searched and those that had yet to be examined. He did not share his superiors' frustration. He wanted answers too, but he understood what Meyers had said about archaeology. They would learn what had happened in the field 500 years ago. It was just a matter of time. 

There had clearly been a battle of some sort. The reason for that battle and the weapons used were what interested the Illuminati. Tom had his suspicions about what had happened and had shared them with his little brother. Hunter was skeptical. He didn't believe in magic. He believed in what he could see and touch, but at the same time he readily admitted that there were things he did not understand. 

Something peculiar had happened here. That much was clear. The melted weapons and charred corpses were strange enough certainly. Then the archeologists had realized that all of the bodies were dressed the same way. They had been wearing the same livery, had been fighting on the same side. As yet there was no sign of an enemy. There were no other colors.

Whoever they had been fighting the enemy had apparently suffered no casualties. That might have had something to do with the weapon that burned the bodies and melted the swords. It was worth investigating.

Once Meyers was tucked away with the lab reports, Hunter opened the pack he was carrying and removed a small geiger counter. It was smaller than the average unit and much more sensitive. 

__

Typical Illuminati, he thought. The technology was five to ten years ahead of state of the art. Sometimes it irritated him that such things were held back. Trouble was that in many cases it was justified. The computer equipment the Society used gave them access to almost every system on the planet. That advantage had allowed them to head off several nasty incidents. Holding back some conveniences was perfectly justified if the edge it gave allowed the Society to head off terrorists before they could act or even prevent the occasional war.

The ends justify the means had always been the Illuminati philosophy. Hunter didn't share it, but there were plenty of times the Society's secretive methods had been proven necessary. The particle beam technology that Xanatos enterprises used was a good example of advanced technology in the wrong hands. 

He smiled a bit. Xanatos was still taking heat over that business with the weapon shipment that Tony Dracon had stolen. Although Hunter had no personal reason to dislike the man he had always considered Xanatos careless, sloppy. Of late there had been more and more incidents involving him. Tom had been quite incensed over some of them. 

The latest mess with the cyborg in Times Square had just about capped it. Hunter chuckled despite himself as he walked around the dig. _You're going to lose your magic decoder ring for that one Davey_, he smiled. The Society was still trying to sort out what had happened, and Xanatos was not being very forthcoming.

Nothing. Even background radiation was minimal. Hunter told the unit to do a quick self-diagnostic, but it seemed to be working. If the weapon that killed those soldiers had left behind any radiation it was of a sort that the hand held geiger counter wasn't designed to pick up, or it had faded to below the unit's detection threshold. It had been 500 years.

He put it away and turned back to the main road where he had parked. There were other matters to attend to, and somehow, he doubted anything useful would turn up for a while. Meyers was right. Archeology took time.

***

It wasn't till a week later that a discovery was made. A hill just east of the dig had turned out not to be a hill at all. 

In reconstructing what had happened Meyers had concluded that the soldiers had been moving towards a goal. Everything about the distribution of the bodies suggested it. A small unimpressive hill seemed to have been their destination. A little probing with ground sonar had revealed some sort of chamber under the hill. Hunter made sure he was on hand when the entrance was unearthed.

It had taken days of careful digging, but finally the door to the chamber was revealed. It was solid iron. It was also meant never to be opened. That much was clear from the way it was sealed and the fact that it was set into the rock. It was only a door in the sense that it covered an entrance. Figuring out a way to remove the door without damaging the interior took another two days, but finally with jackhammers applied to the surrounding stone and strategically placed charges it was loosened, then it was pulled away with a magnet on a crane. Meyers had argued vehemently against it, but the Society had been adamant. 

He moaned as he watched the large machine roll through his carefully laid out grid. That the archeologist had learned all he could from the site was not important. He wasn't getting his own way. _This isn't the way it's done, _he groused as the door was pulled clear of the hillside, some of the stone breaking away in the process. 

Soon after it was clear, Hunter and Meyers stood at the entrance of the chamber that had been so long hidden. It was dark, the daylight barely made a dent in the shadows inside. Meyers turned to one of his workers and called for lanterns. 

Hunter was turning toward the dig worker hurrying up with the lights when he saw something stir out of the corner of his eye. He was never sure afterwards exactly what had alerted him, but one second he was standing at the entrance of the chamber, and the next he was in motion.

Hunter tackled Meyers at waist level, and they both hit the ground rolling away from the entrance even as a blast of light and sound like the breath from a dragon's mouth shot out of the chamber and into the sky. Meyers stared at the display in astonishment as he tried to untangle himself from Hunter.

"What the hell was that?" Hunter demanded climbing to his feet and helping Meyers to rise.

"A fire ball I would think," Meyers answered in a superior tone. "Apparently some toxic, flammable gas had built up in there over the years," he explained in a superior tone. "Often decaying organic matter within a dig will give off a variety of unpleasant fumes. Probably a spark made when the door was yanked out drifted around till it found a cloud of the stuff."

Two things kept Hunter from accepting that explanation. The first was that he knew of no gas that burned with a bright green flame. The second was that fire usually had some heat associated with it. There had been no heat. He considered pointing this out to Meyers, but held his peace. Something very strange was going on. He chided himself for not having the Geiger counter with him.

Carefully, the two men entered the chamber. It was a large round area that boasted two long stone tables and what appeared to be an altar at the far end of the room. On the walls were depictions of a battle being fought. The combatants were all fanciful creatures of one sort or another. There were elves, goblins, and monsters of every description on all sides.

"Incredible," Meyers breathed. "This could be a depiction of the legend of Ragnarok, the end of the world in Norse and ancient German mythology." He pointed to an image of a huge bearded figure. "This could be a representation of Odin. And these," he pointed at another group of figures, "are almost certainly frost giants." 

His excitement turned to confusion as he looked at other images around the room. "This makes no sense," he murmured. "That appears to be a representation of the Egyptian goddess Sekhmet. What's she doing here?" He pointed to another figure. "And this one is definitely Anubis. Ranging a bit far north aren't you boy?" He addressed the painted image curiously. 

Hunter left him to his musings while he looked at the room's other contents. The room was remarkably clean considering its age. There were some rusted metal stands that might once have held torches. On the two tables on either side of the altar were sealed clay vessels of various shapes and sizes. But what captured his attention and held it was the altar. There was no other word for it.

There were two low tables positioned off to the side on which the clay vessels and a few other odds and ends rested, but the altar was the most impressive sight in the room. 

Elaborately carved and amazingly well preserved, more depictions of fantastic creatures decorated the altar's sides and front. The images were different though. They seemed to be positioned as if they were protecting the altar and the items on it. There were five artifacts laid out at the points of a star carved into the stone top. Hunter stared at the items in confusion. If anything they made even less sense than the images on the walls.

At the bottom right point was a white feather. It was approximately six inches long and seemed almost to glow. It might have been set there the moment before they entered for all the signs of age or decay it showed. 

A small, carved stone image of a dragon sat at the bottom left point. It had a distinctly Chinese appearance to it, accept that the dragon was in the process of spreading stubby wings as if to take flight. He had never seen an image of a Chinese dragon with wings. 

At the upper left point was a perfectly round sphere of wood. It reflected the light from the entrance as if it were freshly polished. There were no carvings or painted images on the sphere, but it seemed to have a strange quality of depth about it that drew the eye. He stared at it, examining it carefully without touching it. He had the curious thought that the sphere was bottomless. Suddenly, he was overcome with an almost physical sensation of falling. With an effort he wrenched his eyes away.

He was standing firmly on the ground before the altar. "Oookay" He was careful not to look at it directly again. The item at the upper right point of the star was a silver bell attached to a short chain. A small silver rod for striking the bell sat next to it.

The Ankh was the last item on the table. It rested at the top point of the star and, somehow seemed, Hunter could think of no other appropriate word, more _real _than anything else in the room. It had a strange presence that the other artifacts lacked.

"Amazing." Hunter turned to find Meyers standing at his elbow. "There are artifacts here from all over the world. The dragon is from china. That bell is almost certainly pure silver from Spain. The Ankh is Egyptian. What's most interesting about all of this is that these artifacts, in fact this entire chamber predates the remains from the battle outside by hundreds of years at least."

"How do you explain the feather?" Hunter asked curiously, "or the wooden ball that looks freshly polished while there are bits of rusting metal not five feet away." He pointed to a rusted bit of metal lying in one corner. It might have been a sconce for a torch at one time, now it was a barely identifiable pile of rust.

Meyers shook his head. "I don't, not yet. There is a lot to learn in this room." He turned toward the entrance and gave rapid instructions in German. An assistant with a video camera stepped carefully into the room and began to slowly move the camera over everything. Meyers watched carefully commenting on each section of painted wall and each artifact as they went. Hunter ignored them as he considered all he knew about the room so far. It wasn't nearly enough. He wasn't sure why, but he was certain that something was about to happen.

He listened with half an ear to Meyers' ramblings about the probable age of various items and the room itself. He and the camera hadn't gotten near the altar yet. Hunter reached a hand out to the items on the altar. He wasn't sure why, but he felt drawn to the collection and repulsed by it at the same time. Touching any of those artifacts was the last thing he wanted to do, but he couldn't help himself.

As soon as his hand broke the lines that formed the star there was a flash of… something… he could never describe it afterwards, but suddenly he KNEW. And he SAW. 

He was unsure how long he stood there frozen to the spot, but Meyers was still droning on about the images on the walls when Hunter pulled back from the altar and headed to the entrance.

Hunter fired off a series of instructions in a tone that sent the workers waiting near the entrance scampering to obey. He turned back to the room to find Meyers staring at him open-mouthed.

"What do you think you're doing?!" the infuriated archeologist demanded. "I was given authority over the archeological matters here. You c-"

"I can and I am. Take what precautions you can to protect the artifacts doctor, but we're leaving now." He stood aside as two workers entered the room with padded containers for the artifacts. Meyers could only stand by and sputter as the five artifacts from the altar were loaded into the boxes and removed.

To his credit he recovered quickly and stepped in to make the best of a bad situation. He took over the handling of the artifacts himself, giving curt orders as to how they should be handled and packed.

Five minutes later a crate containing five smaller boxes, each containing an artifact, was loaded onto a truck and ready to leave. At Hunter's order, most of the workers had already cleared out

"Can you at least tell me why we're in such a hurry?"

Hunter nodded as he watched the truck close up and prepare to head out. "Remember that green fire ball that nearly hit us when we opened the chamber? I know what it was."

"Enlighten me."

Hunter ignored the sarcasm. "It was a flare, a signal to the people who built this place, and we don't want to be here when they arrive."

Meyers stared at him as if he'd grown a second head. "The battle was 500 years ago. The chamber is at least twice as old. Are you expecting ghosts?"

"I don't know yet." He turned his attention to his security force. Meyers had thought he was paranoid bringing armed guards to an archeological dig, but Hunter had learned long ago that it was better to have a thing and not need it than to need it and not have it. Now he was certain that he would need the guards.

He'd given them their orders as soon as he came out of the chamber. They had spread out, some heading for high ground to watch all possible approaches. Others were set close to the truck while it was loaded.

He told them to get ready to cover the truck as it traveled to the nearest secure facility. They scrambled to obey. The last bit of equipment had just been loaded when the front of the truck began to sink into the ground. The driver scrambled out, shouting in panic. People gathered around the truck and discovered that a bog had suddenly appeared where there had been solid ground a moment before.

"What the hell? How did that happen?" Hunter ignored Meyers' questions and focused on the three figures that had materialized near the back of the truck. They had simply appeared out of thin air. Three women stood side by side, identical except for the color of their hair. 

"Look sisters," the dark-haired one said with a smile. "They have opened the vault for us." The two guards at the rear of the truck got over their surprise and raised their weapons.

Before either could fire the blonde made a dismissive gesture with one hand and both men burst into flames. The fire was extremely hot and intense. Within seconds there was nothing left of the men.

"Now, now sister, that's no way to thank them for their efforts on our behalf." The silver-haired sister turned and gestured to two more guards running toward them. They had begun to fire the instant they had seen what happened to their comrades, but the bullets vanished in small bursts of green light as they approached the three.

Silver hair smiled and the two froze in place and began to change. Their skin roughened and darkened as their legs seemed to fuse together and sink, no to _grow _into the ground. Meyers and the workers who were not actively running stared in horror as the two men were changed into trees before their eyes.

Hunter wasn't watching. He had slipped away and made it to the crane that stood nearby. Fortunately, the keys had been left in the ignition by the operator. It started on the first try. Hunter cursed the noise it was making even as he used the crane to raise the magnet and the iron door into the air. He brought the crane arm and its burden around as quickly as possible, keeping it only a few feet off the ground.

The sisters were holding Meyers aloft while they debated over what they should do with him. One wanted to 'thank' him for opening the chamber. Another wanted to punish him for making them wait while he dug up the countryside. The last took no part in the conversation. She amused herself by spinning him in the air. His face was slowly going from chalk white to sea sick green when one of the sisters noticed the crane and the door bearing down on them. 

"Sisters beware!" They dropped Meyers and started to disappear. The solid iron door caught the three about chest height as they were fading out. The after-glow of three bright green flashes of light and the echoes of three agonized screams seemed to linger long after the women themselves had vanished.

Scrambling out of the cab of the crane, which had overturned when the door had hit the peak of its arc, he began to rally his men. The workers had all run off, but the guards had stood their ground. They managed to unload the truck in record time and split the load among various cars. As soon as everyone had cleared out, Hunter headed for his own car with a few other artifacts from the chamber in his knapsack. He wasn't sure if what he was thinking would work, but he wanted his men to have the best opportunity to reach a safe place with the items from the altar.

Based on vague ideas about fairies and elves, he had ordered steel and iron tools and boxes piled around the box containing the artifacts. It might all be for nothing. He didn't know that iron had any real affect on the three women who had attacked them, but it was better than nothing.

Hunter never saw where she came from. One moment the road ahead was empty. When he looked back from a glance at the rearview mirror, there was a well-dressed woman hitchhiking. She smiled as if amused by some private joke and gestured with her thumb for him to pull over. He had no intention of doing so, but as he started to pass the car slowed and stopped of it's own accord.

There was no response when he stepped on the gas, at least not until the woman was seated comfortably beside him. "Drive." She said, and Hunter found himself powerless to do anything else. The car started again and he began to drive, despite his efforts to do otherwise. The woman was middle-aged and rather attractive. She smiled warmly at him, looking perfectly human. He knew better.

"What are you?" he asked bluntly.

She looked disappointed for a second. Hunter didn't know what she had wanted, but he was in no mood to play games. Every legend he had ever heard about magical creatures led him to conclude that playing games with them was grade-A stupid.

After a moment's thought she abandoned pretense and her form shimmered and changed. A blue-skinned woman with long, elegantly pointed ears and bright red hair now sat beside him smiling warmly.

"I am Titania, Queen of the Third Race."

"What do you want?"

"I had wanted some interesting dialogue, but I see that was a vain hope," she said primly. Hunter didn't respond to her barbs. He had been trying to take some action against her, but he couldn't. He could only drive. 

She sighed. "Very well. I need to make you understand what you've started by opening that vault. It has remained undisturbed for thousands of years despite various attempts by the Unseelie to breach its walls." 

When she began to look miffed at his silence he nodded. "Who are the Unseelie?" He asked with genuine curiosity. He wanted whatever information he could get out of her, hoping it might lead to a way out of this mess.

"Let me tell you. Or better, let me show you." All joking vanished from her tone and she moved her had in front of his eyes.

***

The Third Race had lived in peace on Avalon for uncounted eons. They wanted little from the world outside, but often ventured out to 'play' with the younger races, the humans and Gargoyles. Then came a time when the king of the Third Race lay dying, struck down by a human wielding an iron weapon. His two sons, Oberon and Madoc waited impatiently for his decision as to which one of them would rule the Third Race after him.

The king had made his decision, and each one accepted with the grace appropriate to those of royal blood. Oberon took the throne when the old king died and took the Lady Titania as his queen. Madoc made the appropriate gestures of obedience and loyalty, but privately he fumed. He gathered his followers in secret and sought to overthrow Oberon.

The two brothers were very much alike, but there was a key difference. Oberon cared nothing for the younger races and was content to leave them to their fate, be it to live or die. Madoc believed the younger races should be conquered and enslaved. 

It was with this in mind that Madoc made his headquarters in what would one day be Germany. He gathered an army of mortals to act as foot soldiers for him. With the army he gathered he did something that had never been done before. He brought war to Avalon.

For a time it seemed that he might succeed. Then Oberon entered the battle himself. Titania had begged him not to. His advisors had told him such an action would devastate the younger races, but the Lord of Avalon would hear none of it.

Oberon and Madoc fought across the face of the world. They fought with a viciousness that left their followers in awe, and the civilizations of man crumbled all around them. Those that were not destroyed completely like the luckless Atlanteans, were thrown into complete disarray.

The capitol of mighty Hyperborea, whose armies were feared across the globe was crushed beneath a layer of ice as Madoc brought forth the Frost Giants to out flank Odin's forces. 

The island of Lemuria renowned as a center of art and learning was washed clean of any trace of mortal life when Oberon summoned a tidal wave to wash away an army of monsters called up by his brother.

Atlantis, the most powerful of all the ancient civilizations tried to rally a defense against the warring godlings. For their offense Oberon caused their entire civilization to sink beneath the sea.

The battle lasted less than a week, but human civilization was thrown back thousands of years, they had to start over. Oberon did not care. He finally defeated Madoc and banished him and his followers from Avalon. He stripped them of their powers, he had thought, permanently.

Even without their powers they were a threat though. They had caused great trouble over the centuries since.

"Now they are regaining their powers, slowly, but surely. Soon the Unseelie will regain their full might and again try to overthrow my lord and husband."

Hunter shook his head slightly, as if waking from a dream. Part of him marveled that he was still on the road. For what seemed like hours he had watched a parade of horrific images play out in front of him. Cities were trampled by warring giants. Continents shifted and sank while new land masses rose. The Fay made war and the mortals died by the hundreds of millions. 

It was nearly five minutes before he could do more than shake at the mere thought of the things Titania had shown him. Finally he pulled himself together enough to ask, "what about the things in the vault? They're weapons aren't they?"

"The vault is all that saved the younger races from outright extinction. Those items are the magical equivalent of nuclear weapons. Each of them amplifies the power of the user in a different way."

Hunter nodded. "So, you don't want this Madoc to have them."

"I don't want anyone to have them," she corrected. "The very existence of those items threatens the Fay. They must be kept safely hidden."

"What do you want?" He already had his own idea about what needed to be done, but he doubted she'd allow it.

"I want them secreted where no one, mortal or Fay, will think to look. The Unselie must not have them."

"Is that who those three were? Unseelie?"

"No. The Sisters serve Oberon. They would curry his favor by bringing him those talismans. You must hide them before they can recover from the blow you dealt them. You haven't much time." When he gave no response beyond a tightening of his jaw she pressed on. "Those weapons could destroy the younger races. I would not see that happen." She looked and sounded sincere, but Hunter wasn't buying it. He wasn't about to accept her at face value.

She sighed. "I understand your distrust, but trust isn't required in this instance. You will cooperate because it is in your own best interests and in the best interests of your species."

That was familiar. The common good. It aggravated him immensely to have that argument used against him, but he recognized its validity. After a moment's thought he agreed. "Tell me everything."

"I will tell you how to-"

"No," he interrupted. "Tell me everything. What each item is, the risk it poses, how it can best be hidden and how it can be neutralized. If you want my help you will give me everything you know about the objects and the opposition. Otherwise you will get no cooperation from me or my organization."

"You don't have many options," she pointed out coolly. He smiled thinly.

"Neither do you Lady Blue." If being addressed in such a familiar manner surprised or offended her she didn't show it. She looked thoughtful rather than annoyed. Hunter knew he was taking a great risk, she must know he was bluffing, but he was determined to get as much information out of her as possible before agreeing to anything.

"Very well," she said evenly. The Fay queen took a moment to gather her thoughts and then waved her hand before his eyes again.

He never knew how long it took, but he learned. He learned about the stone dragon that was in fact the Dragon King, a creature that had once been the Third Race's most powerful enemy. Now it was trapped in stone. The King could be released with the proper invocation, but he could only be controlled with a second invocation which only Oberon and Madoc knew. 

He learned of the bell, whose tones could shatter mountains or hypnotize armies. The sounds the bell produced when properly commanded could accomplish almost any task that sound could be used for. The key was how to direct the bell. And that, she would not tell him.

The wooden sphere was in fact a portal of sorts. It could draw in the conscious mind of any who looked at it, leaving an empty husk behind. The talisman was powerful enough to trap Oberon if he were foolish enough to look at it long enough. Like the others there were spells to control it, to trap and release captive minds. Hunter had to suppress a shuddered as he remembered the falling sensation he had felt when he looked at the innocuous wooden ball. 

The feather was perhaps the most frightening. It was a quill, rather like the kind used for writing in earlier times. This quill however would cause whatever was written with it to happen. It could direct the fate of the world, or of a single individual. Even the most powerful Fay was helpless before it. The quill exacted a terrible price though. It took a great deal of magical energy to power it, and the amount of energy required was proportionate to the task being attempted. A human could only use the pen by powering it with the life of another. A human sacrifice was needed to 'charge' the pen otherwise the user's own life would be drawn away to power the quill. A Fay could use it safely for small tasks without drawing in magical energy to power it, but it could easily drain the life of one of them if its power was abused.

The last item was the Ankh. Unlike the other items it required no invocation. What it did was simple and terrifying. It was an amplifier. It could multiply the magical power of any using it by a hundred-fold. In the hands of a human mage it would be devastating, easily making that person a match for an ordinary Fay. If Oberon or Madoc came into possession of the Ankh either one could destroy the other with a thought or wipe out all life on the planet. 

Hunter learned about each of them. He learned what they could do, how they came into being, and why they were feared. He learned methods for concealing and protecting them, even from the most determined Fay. Most importantly, he learned that they could be destroyed. The circumstances for each were very specific, but it could be done. Titania frustrated him by not telling him though. He was careful not to let it show, but he was sure that she saw his annoyance.

"Do you understand?" Her voice had taken on a lilting, almost hypnotic quality.

He nodded, "Yes, I understand."

"Then you will protect the items for me." It was a statement, not a question.

"I will protect them." Titania did not seem to notice the lack of qualifiers, just as she didn't notice that he was looking carefully at their surroundings. He knew the road they were driving on. They had been moving in a circle for however long the conversation had lasted.

"You will take whatever steps are necessary."

"They will be protected. Don't worry." He turned to her. "Now I have work to do. Get out."

She actually blinked. "You are hardly in a position to give orders," she pointed out. Hunter shrugged.

"Fine then, stay." As he spoke, he unfastened his seat belt and opened the door. He turned away from her and pushed off against the accelerator as the car left the road. It roared and jumped ahead as he rolled clear. It continued to gain speed as it went down the slope. It reached the edge ten seconds later. It was a narrow ravine. He didn't know if Titania made it out before the car hit the opposite wall and exploded. 

He picked himself up and dusted himself off. Step one in the standard disappearing act was complete. He had orchestrated many such vanishing acts in the past, but he had never had to disappear himself before. It would take time to determine that there wasn't a body in the car. If there was a body in there, all the better, but somehow he doubted there would be.

He was on the move immediately. There were tracks to cover, preparations to make, and magical doohickeys to steal. The last part sent a sharp pain through his conscience. He would have to defy the Illuminati, sever ties with his family in order to do what was necessary. Tom might not understand, but at least he would be alive. 

It wouldn't take long for the Fay to find the artifacts. He had learned from Titania that the iron he had piled around them was some protection, but they needed to be stored in an iron box, and shielded further with magical wards to prevent their discovery by Fay or humans. He wondered about the gargoyles she had mentioned. He would clearly have to learn more about them. The society had almost no information about them beyond the link to Xanatos. 

It was only a short walk back to town, during that time he made two calls on a cellular phone which, miraculously had not been damaged. When he reached his goal in the small German town ahead the real work would begin.

THE LABYRINTH

"I stole the artifacts from the lab where they were being studied and concealed them where no one would find them. Then I set about gathering the knowledge and the materials I would need to destroy them. Along the way I had to appropriate other magical items and a quite a few spell books. I also learned everything I could about the Fay, both Seelie and Unseelie. I learned personalities, strengths and weaknesses, rivalries, and anything else that might prove useful. 

Along the way I've run into a few Fay. None have them have improved my initial impression of the species. Fortunately their arrogance leads to carelessness. I knew that Nicholas Maddox was actually Madoc before anyone else did. I also knew that Dominique Destine was actually Demona from the beginning." He paused and looked annoyed as he addressed Goliath.

"If any of your clan ever need an fake identity, come to me. Demona's name was a dead giveaway, and I'm willing to bet she's far more adept at constructing phony backgrounds for herself than any of you are." Goliath only glared at him. He shrugged.

"It's been a busy two years. I've learned more about the real world than I ever wanted to know."

"And this coming from someone who trades in secrets for a covert organization that practically rules the world?" The sarcasm in Matt's voice lacked the bite it normally would. He was still trying to digest what Hunter had told them. They all were. He looked at each in turn. The norm was a slightly glazed expression. _Information overload, _a snide little voice commented at the back of his mind.

The exception was Robin. Normally the young Fay wore her emotions openly for all to see. Normally she was smiling and optimistic. Now she just huddled in her chair with no expression whatsoever. 

Hunter made a note to talk to her privately later. "I know this has been a lot to absorb. As recent events have shown you though, the Unseelie are building up toward another war. I have been doing my best to curtail their efforts, but there is only so much I can do covertly." 

He turned to Goliath. "Confronting them directly is an exercise in futility, and a painful one at that. You've confronted the Unseelie and their halfling soldiers yourself. Have you ever won a fight with them?"

The clan leader growled softly in frustration. "No," he admitted grudgingly. "We have fought them to a standstill and disrupted their plans, but we have made no real progress." He thought a moment. When he spoke, his words came only reluctantly. "Perhaps your 'covert' war against them is the best course of action."

"Was that really as painful as it looked?" Felix asked from where he was sitting. Goliath glared at him and the mutate suddenly tried very hard to become invisible. 

"Take it easy Goliath," Elisa put her arm through his and patted his shoulder. His mood softened at once, but he still did not look happy. 

"I've carried out the only kind of war I can against an intractable enemy. Guerilla warfare is never pretty or pleasant, but it's the only option we have."

"How precisely does this tie into the raid against Malon Inc.?" Bluestone wanted to know.

"I'm certain that the Unseelie are behind the cloning and mutation projects responsible for me and the other mutates. I think they are trying to create an army of mutate soldiers that they can control." He nodded to the two wolf mutates, Jack and Sheila. "In the facility where we rescued them I found-" he grimaced, "evidence that they are trying to rework Sevarius' original formula. It was clear at the time that they hadn't had a great deal of success." He paused as he remembered the freezer full of horribly mutated bodies.

Joey, Jack and Sheila, the only ones who had seen what Hunter saw nodded and looked slightly ill. If any of the others had doubts, they wisely chose to keep silent. 

"From what little I've been able to learn about the facility the Feds are planning to raid, I am certain they are conducting similar experiments there."

"So the Unseelie want an army of foot soldiers? What about the halflings?" This from Ellie, who had been till this point. Hunter shook his head.

"I don't know. Maybe they're having problems controlling them. Maybe they can't produce hem in sufficient quantity. Whatever the reason the number of halflings hasn't risen for a while now. Something I'm certain we're all grateful for." There were sounds of agreement from around the room. "When this current business with Malon is settled I want to start making plans to decrease their numbers." More sounds of agreement, although Maza and Bluestone looked uncomfortable. He focused on Bluestone.

"Detective, I told you when we met last night that you would have to make a choice when you learned the truth. Do you think you know enough to make a choice? Is there more you need to know?"

His tone was even. He wasn't taunting Bluestone or saying 'I told you so'. Something for which Matt was grateful.

"Why didn't you go to your brother with this from the start? The Illuminati would have made what you've been trying to do a lot easier."

Hunter grimaced. "I know my brother. He's a skilled manipulator, very talented when it comes to using his resources and other peoples' resources. He would have overruled me and tried to use the weapons and the knowledge I'd gained, against the Fay. That would have almost certainly led to disaster." He paused and thought a moment before turning to Goliath. "Brooklyn once told me about the time Demona summoned Puck to try to get rid of your clan. You know how that turned out for her and Demona has centuries of experience with treachery." For a second it looked as if Goliath might take offense on his former mate's behalf, but instead, he nodded.

"Yes, that is so. Any attempt to trick or attack the Fay in the manner you describe would almost certainly end badly. Are you saying you couldn't have convinced your brother of the risks?"

"Perhaps I could have, but I think it unlikely. He's used to getting his own way, and he's used to coming out on top in any situation no matter how risky. I've always been the cautious one." He considered a moment, as if debating over whether to reveal the next part. It was embarrassing rather than dangerous. There really wasn't any choice though.

"Since that time, I've discovered that the Unseelie have been covering all the bases. They are aware of the Illuminati and have agents, human operatives, within our ranks. Right now Madoc is content to leave them alone while keeping an eye on their activities. If the Illuminati were to move against him in any way he might decide that the Society is a threat that needs to be dealt with." His voice betrayed his worry on this subject. "He would probably start with Tom."

"I can understand your desire to protect your brother," Elisa said thoughtfully. This earned her an odd look from Derek, "but aren't you involving him by having him set up this raid?"

Hunter shook his head. "His involvement and that of the Society is minimal. The FBI is doing the work. Madoc may know the Illuminati had a hand in what went down, and he may pay them closer attention, but the Illuminati won't be his primary focus, especially when he realizes they were manipulated into arranging the raid."

Elisa blinked slowly while trying to sort out this byzantine bit of obfuscation. Finally she shook her head. "Oh what a tangled web…" she muttered.

"There are risks," he admitted, "but I've had years of practice in deceiving." This earned him some dark looks. "Whether you approve of my profession or not I'm still the best qualified to run the show. Tell me something." He looked around the room.

"If Madoc and the Unseelie are so powerful, why haven't they launched an all out attack yet? Why don't they just take over the planet?"

It was Elisa who answered. "There aren't enough of them," she said, "and as powerful as they are, they're not invulnerable." Hunter nodded.

"At this point we can still delay them by disrupting their plans. The loss of this lab and the work being done there will be a major set back to them. Making the lab's activities public will make them more cautious still. Madoc doesn't want to be discovered before he's ready."

"Yuir making a lot of assumptions aren't ye lad?" Hudson watched the mutate leader keenly. "All of this is based on your belief that Malon is run by the Unseelie and that they will respond in a certain way to your actions. Take it from an old warrior. It is dangerous to believe you can predict an enemy's actions."

"I know." He shuddered as a particularly unpleasant image came to mind. A group of gun runners supplying arms to terrorists had made it necessary for the Illuminati to take a direct hand in the matter. Hunter had planned and led the attack, right into a trap. Abin may have been a thug, but he was much smarter than Hunter had given him credit for. The mission had succeeded almost by accident when the Arab had taken a stray bullet in the head. Five members of Hunter's seven man team had been killed. 

He shoved the memory away. "Believe me I know. Taking a risk like this isn't my first choice, but we don't have many options. We have to buy ourselves time until the situation changes or we find some advantage over Madoc."

"But it won't be you taking the risk will it?" Matt asked. "Those FBI agents will have no idea what they're walking into. Your brother won't have any idea what sort of hornets' nest he's stirring up. You're playing armchair general here Hunter. Sending people off to fight for you, without even telling them what they're fighting." Hunter found he couldn't meet Bluestone's eyes.

"I know that. If I could do it differently I would, but I don't know another way." He pulled himself together. "Well, what are you going to do?" After a moment's thought Bluestone sighed.

"I'm not going to tell your brother anything." Several shocked looks were directed his way. "You are going to tell him everything." Before Hunter could muster a protest, or any sort of response, Matt forged ahead.

"If he hears it from me he won't believe it, at least not all of it, but he will stop the raid and begin his own investigation. I know it and you know it. He needs to know what he's up against. Who would you prefer it came from?"

"You aren't leaving me much choice. Think about what you're saying. Telling him any of this before the raid could disrupt everything. Any investigation he begins could lead the Unseelie right to our doorstep, in force. That's not something you want." He sighed. "It's a terrible trade off, I've already lost my place in the Society, and I could lose a lot more over this, but its just me. If Madoc gets his way everyone will suffer."

"So you're the martyr here huh? Look, I've got no great affection for the Illuminati, but using them like this-"

"-is the lesser of two evils," Hunter finished. "I know how hollow the argument sounds, but I've learned to live with it. You'll have to live with it now."

"You did say it was his choice whether or not to tell your brother," Elisa pointed out.

"It is, but I want him, I want all of you to understand the cost of that choice." He focused his attention on Bluestone. "Well?"

"I… I guess I couldn't find you in time." They sounded like the hardest words he had ever said. "I will have to tell him something though. Let me think about it."

There were questions and answers for the next hour. No one was happy, but everyone was satisfied that Hunter could be trusted. That, he told himself, would have to do.

***

CENTRAL PARK: 8:30 A.M.

"I've got some interesting news." That was true enough, Matt told himself.

"Let's hear it detective." Duval and Matt walked down a quiet path near Belvedere Castle. No one was in earshot, and they were free to talk for a while.

"As the only lead you gave me was Malon, I concentrated on them. I've found a lot of odd coincidences, and some seemingly unrelated events. I'm not sure how, but I think they're all connected. I don't know what if anything your brother has to do with it, though."

"Then how does it relate?"

"It may not. The only lead you gave me was Malon Inc. I ran some checks on them, and there's nothing on the surface to attract attention, but there are ties to companies and facilities that have been the targets of some rather bizarre acts of industrial sabotage."

"Bizarre in what way?"

"Malon isn't cooperating with investigators, but there was a lot of destruction. A couple of places were burned to the ground. Investigators are certain the fires were arson. What's more, whoever did it wasn't in the least interested in making it look like anything else. I accessed the arson investigator's reports early this morning. The fires were deliberately, methodically set. The only goal was to completely destroy those places."

"You think Curtis is behind this? Why?"

"I'm not sure yet. I'm not sure he has anything to do with it, but I've spoken to my… friends. They hear things that don't make it into police reports. They think there were some pretty unsavory things going on at those places. Testing of biological weapons, experiments on human subjects, they were a little vague. Mostly, I think, because they aren't sure themselves."

"Would they hide anything from you?" he asked.

"Not something like this. They're also concerned about some strangers in town."

"Strangers?"

"Two nights ago, police and fire crew pulled a smash and grab crew off the roof of an office building. They claim they were attacked by Gargoyles. Only thing is, none of the clan was in the area."

"New Gargoyles? Or mutates perhaps?"

Matt shook his head. "I'm still trying to pull it all together in my own mind. I'm pretty sure there's a link between these new arrivals, the rumors of biological weapons and experiments on humans and Malon's problems. One of their more recent losses was here in the city, a messy break in. The offices of a warehouse they own were sacked." Duval glanced up curiously but didn't interrupt.

"The alarm was circumvented by someone who knew what they were doing. It was a pretty sophisticated system for a warehouse. After the alarm was bypassed though the place was torn apart." He shook his head again. "Who or whatever did it had a lot of muscle. A steel door was yanked open, the lock torn nearly in half. A heavy oak desk was literally splintered."

"What else?" Duval asked after a moment's silence.

"A floor safe was ripped open and emptied. "Malon isn't claiming any monetary losses. The manager there was pretty upset though. Frightened actually."

"Of his bosses?"

"Only thing I can think of. The clan say they didn't have anything to do with it." He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I don't believe in coincidence. Something very weird is going on. Maybe your brother is in the middle of it. Maybe he has nothing to do with it."

"He wouldn't. Not the way you seem to mean anyway. If he learned of such work going on, he'd want to put a stop to it." Matt thought he saw the beginnings of hope there. _Maybe_, Matt thought, _he's hoping that what his kid brother is doing is justified after all. Grasping at straws_, he added somewhat sadly.

The same thought seemed to occur to the Illuminati leader at the same time. His face hardened, a tired sort of resolve settling over it. 

Duval thought hard for a moment. "New mutates perhaps? If so, what would Curtis be doing with them?" Matt shrugged.

"Could he have gotten past the alarm?"

"Easily, but why?"

Matt shook his head. "We're getting off track here I think. All we know is that Malon was running a background check. He may not be directly involved.

"There is one thing you can find out for me that might be of use if you have any access to Malon," Matt ventured.

"Yes?"

"Find out if Dr. Anton Sevarius works for them."

"He developed the mutagen didn't he?" Bluestone nodded. "That would point toward a rather disturbing connection. Biological weapons indeed." He thought for a few moments, a frown of concentration on his face. "Curtis might well be involved. If he is behind Malon's problems…" He changed tack abruptly. "What about the raid? Do you think it should go forward?"

Matt considered carefully before answering. "If Malon is using the mutagen they need to be stopped. No question. Malon was running a background check on a fake identity Curtis is using. He could have been trying to get a job there in order to sabotage them from the inside." He pursed his lips thoughtfully, hoping that his observations of the brothers and his guesses about them would pay off. "I think the raid should go forward."

Duval was silent for a long time, finally he nodded. "I agree. It will go forward. Thank you for your assistance detective, keep looking for Curtis, and let me know if anything turns up." Matt nodded.

"I will." With that they parted company. Matt went home to get some sleep. Duval returned to his home office to put the finishing touches on the plans for the raid on Malon.

As he hung up the phone after one last call to Hacker and some adjustments to the timing of the operation, he looked at his watch. It was three p.m. The clock was running. In precisely 39 hours it was all going to hit the fan for Malon. Considering how little else there was to be happy about, he found the thought oddly satisfying.

NEXT: RECKONING


End file.
